


You Were Not A Victim

by shanepizza (orphan_account)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, M/M, POV Second Person, Victim Complex, more than a little fucked up, violence kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:46:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6307132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/shanepizza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>you want him to hurt you. you want him to control you. this is a tough pill to swallow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Were Not A Victim

**Author's Note:**

> tw: violence (both sexual and non-sexual), sex towards the end (WHICH IS COMPLETELY CONSENSUAL DESPITE HOW IT MAY SOUND, I PROMISE), general sad stuff, SUPER messed up relationships, PERCEIVED emotional abuse because no one is actually being abused here okay riddlecrow is a good ship leave me alo
> 
> (p.s. the "you" here is eddie, in case that somehow isn't clear.)

Someone had once asked you how you could ever stand being with him. Thinking it a ridiculous question, you simply scoffed and prepared a snide comeback. However, before you had a chance to speak, they interjected once again, asking if something was wrong with you.

"What is it, some kinda Stockholm Syndrome or something?" They had laughed.

They stopped laughing when you bashed them in the side of the head with your cane. You ensured they wouldn't laugh again when you shoved the hidden blade of your cane into their eye. Repeatedly.

Afterwards, you removed your hat and ran a gloved hand through your hair. You readjusted the mask around your eyes, sighing and wiping the sweat from your brow. You noticed the blood splattered across your shoes, the way it glistened in the moonlight much like the wet alleyway asphalt. You silently thanked cows for having such stain-resistant hide.

That night, you laid in bed next to him. Neither of you were asleep and you both knew it, but you kept it up for the sake of the game. You each figured that maybe if one of you could actually fall asleep, the other would as well. This theory was disproven night after sleepless night, and yet you continued to run your unspoken trials. It was almost sickeningly pointless, but simultaneously the closest parallel to normalcy you knew the two of you would ever have. Not that normalcy was an especially primary concern amongst any citizens of Gotham City.

You considered what had been said to you over and over again. You had to remind yourself that it wasn't true, that you were not being held captive, that you could walk out any time you wanted to. You were horrified at how eager you always were to play the victim.

You loved him, and he loved you back. The details of that love were inconsequential. You were not a victim. You never had been. You. Were. Not. A. Victim.

You felt his arms wrap around you. You welcomed the gesture. You felt him dig his nails into your arm, turning the tender moment into one exploiting your vulnerability. Making it something exclusively for his enjoyment. Making _you_ something exclusively for his enjoyment. You welcomed that concept even more than the last.

Every day after that, you caught yourself thinking about the ways he could hurt you. You were ashamed when confronting the fact that him hurting you would only make you want to stay with him more.

A week later, you found yourself under him. He fucked you hard, mercilessly, with no pity or sympathy for your cries. He hit you and you just moaned louder. He choked you and you let out strangled screams with each thrust, shredding your throat until you were certain speaking would be difficult. He made it hurt and you couldn't deny that you loved it. You couldn't deny that the pain only made you want him more than ever before. You wanted him to control you and you weren't even sure why. He fucked you harder, laughing and shoving himself deeper inside of you as you struggled. 

You were not a victim.

You felt him grab your arm as he was getting close to finishing, driving his nails into the same spot as he had that night. He leaned in close to your ear, smiling. He spoke to you as quietly as he possibly could, his whisper hot on your neck.

"I'll kill you if you ever leave me, you know."

You loved being a victim.

And with that, you came harder than you ever had in your life.


End file.
